


The King of my Heart

by tyzvlas



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game - Fandom
Genre: F/M, I’m sad, Jonsa smut, jonsa, jonsa makes me sad help, siblings/cousins??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 17:02:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20393122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tyzvlas/pseuds/tyzvlas
Summary: She walked briskly to meet him, every inch of her body nearly shaking. He met her in the middle and took her into his arms. Although shorter than her, he was still stronger and she felt herself fall into him. She let everything go, and she’d never felt safer than in his arms. He wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her in the air, spinning. She giggled, and he carefully placed her down. The dragon queen was next. She approached, apprehensive and cautious. That’s when Sansa’s entire world shattered.





	The King of my Heart

The drums pounded, the army moved closer with each beat. Sansa’s heart and stomach fluttered as the army drew in close, but she maintained her cold eyes and stoic position. She grew giddy, and in that moment she felt half a girl again. The world melted away, she forgot Ramsay, she forgot Joffrey, she forgot it all at the prospect of seeing Jon again. He had sent a raven a month before informing Winterfell that he’d be bringing Dragonglass and an army to wield it. Sansa had written to every hold and every Lord in the North, the Vale, and the Riverlands for extra food to help them, which would be there shortly after the King in the North and the Queen arrive. In waiting for Jon, she had sewed him a new cloak and had the blacksmiths make him a new set of armor for fighting the Army of the Dead. It was pure steel, with black enamel, and the Stark direwolf sigil on the chest. Sansa imagined how he’d smiled when she last made him something and she nearly sprinted to meet him. She compromised with herself, and as soon as she saw his garron marching through the Winterfell portcullis, she walked briskly to meet him, every inch of her body nearly shaking. He met her in the middle and took her into his arms. Although shorter than her, he was still stronger and she felt herself fall into him. She let everything go, and she’d never felt safer than in his arms. He wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her in the air, spinning. She giggled, and he carefully placed her down. The dragon queen was next. She approached, apprehensive and cautious. That’s when Sansa’s entire world shattered. The Queen stopped to hug Jon... not just hug him but truly embrace him and... _kiss_ him. Sansa’s warm smile froze over into a scowl. As the Queen came closer, Sansa faked a smile again and said as graciously as she could, “Winterfell is yours, your grace.” The Dragon queen curtly nodded and said... something that Sansa tuned out. Sansa walked away as the Queen was mid sentence, which Sansa knew was rude but Gods had it felt so good to do it.

Sansa went straight to the blacksmith, her hands curled into tight fists. She knew Jon would be going to the godswood first and she wanted his armor there when he arrived. The new blacksmith, Mycah, has been with them since they defeated the Botlons. He smiled at Sansa as she walked through into the not forge. “Mycah, I’d like my brother’s armor brought directly to the godswood, as soon as possible.” She took long strides, making sure to be there before Jon and Mycah with the armor. It still had not set in; what she had seen in the courtyard. It couldn’t be real, he wouldn’t do this to her, not after everything.

She found him there before her. His back was to her, he was kneeling before the tree, his eyes closed. “I was hoping you’d change before coming here so I could get here first,” she said, carefully approaching him. The peace of the godswood was eerie to Sansa as a child, who had preferred her mother’s gods to her father’s, but after everything, the quiet was now like a haven for her. Jon slowly got up and approached his sister. Her breaths caught in her throat as he came close. Her eyes went down, unable to look at his. He was barely and inch away from her when he broke the silence.

“I’ve left Winterfell in good hands, Sansa.” She looked up into his eyes. They were softer than usual, staring into her rather than at her. The courtyard was soon forgotten and all that was left was him.

“It hasn’t been easy... the Boltons left barely any food but I wrote-“ Jon hugged her again. It took her by surprise and she lost her balance, tumbling into the snow. “Wh-what was that for?” He looked up at her and smiled.

“I didn’t ask for a progress report, Sansa, I just wanted to compliment how well you're doing as ruler.” When he said her name, her heart began to pound harder and faster, so much so that she was sure he’d hear it. The ice and snow began to melt beneath her, soaking her back with cold water but she didn’t care, she just wanted this moment to last a lifetime.

As soon as they had disappeared, the agonizing memories all came flooding back. Sansa pushed Jon off of her and sat up, with her arms around her knees. She could feel tears welling behind her eyes and she tried her best to soak them back. “Are you... _with_ her?” The tears started to stream down her face now, one by one. She tried her best to keep her voice steady and make sure that Jon couldn’t see her breaking down.

“I... I suppose I am. It was... abrupt and honestly Sansa, I don’t know what I’m doing. I suppose it was more of... tension but I just...” he trailed off, and positioned himself closer to her.

“After everything we’ve been through Jon I just don’t understand.” Sansa had begun to quietly sob, trying to conceal it.

“I’m not sure this is the best time... but I also bent the knee.” Sansa’s entire body froze. Every inch of her because solid and cold as ice.

“Will you excuse me?” Sansa started to rise, but his hand pulled her back down.

“You _have_ to understand-“

“Actually Jon, I don’t _have_ to ‘understand’ anything. We both fought for the North. Robb _died_ for the North, my mother _died_ for the North and you’re just going to give the thing you almost died for to a queen that just showed up on the shores of Westeros barely a year ago? It’s _ludicrous_ Jon. We chose you as our king so you would rule, not so you could galavant with your new southern lover.” She pulled her hand away from him and ran out of the godswood sobbing. Mycah was just arriving with the armor as she exited. “Just... just tell him it’s courtesy of all of Winterfell.”

There was a feast that night to celebrate the new queen. Sansa couldn’t go, she couldn’t bear the thought of seeing him, or him with her. She just stayed in bed, staring at the large canopy that looked over the featherbed that used to belong to her parents.  _Mother, is this sinful?_ She thought to herself.  _You hated Jon, but I feel things for him, for my own brother, is it wrong?_ How could her feelings that felt so right also feel so wrong? After the feast was over and the music was not heard, Sansa slipped out of bed. She shivered as she pulled a frock over her head. Even the natural heating of Winterfell couldn’t keep her warm now, standing in her chambers wearing barely anything. She pulled a cloak on and worn out boots, and walked into the hall. She had no real destination and decided to let her feet carry her. Her walked through the courtyard, guards on duty and stable boys passed out with serving girls on their arm, nothing out of the ordinary. Before long she passed the small sept her father had built when her mother came here, and she wandered into the godswood. She felt her father, her brother, and even her mother there with her, watching over her. She knelt next to the tree, in the spot where her father oft used to clean Ice, his sword. She sat there praying, for what seemed like a lifetime. 

She felt a faint tap on her shoulder, and turned around, frightened. As soon as she saw him, she couldn’t help but smile. “Jon don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Remember when we were children? Robb and I would scare you in the crypts.” Jon smiled at her and sat down. “Why didn’t you come to the feast?”

“Do you want the real answer or the lie I’m telling everyone else?” He took her hand in his.

“Real answer, _always_.”

“I can’t bear the thought of you being with her I just... it hurts too much.” A small tear went down her face, and she chuckled. “I didn’t think it would hurt this much, you’re my brother, it was a one time thing, we could never do it again.” She remembered the bond they had shared before he left for Dragonstone. Just the night before he left, he came into her room, into the room her parents had shared, and they spent the night together, but not as brother and sister, as more. As a man loved his wife, Jon loved Sansa.

“Sansa... we can still have that connection I don’t...”

“You don’t what,” Sansa said, perplexed.

“I don’t _know_ if I love her, but I _know_ I love you.” He went in to kiss her, but her hand came up to block him.

“Jon, you’re my brother.” Jon looked down at his hands.

LI’m not.” Sansa looked into his teary eyes. “I’m not your brother Sansa. Ned Stark isn’t my father. Rhaegar Targaryen is.” Sansa looked at him in utter shock.

LThis means...”

“You’re the true heir to the North. And I’m the true heir to the seven kingdoms.”

“We’re cousins... my mother hated you for naught...” Sansa took his hands. “You need to tell people, press you claim! You’ll be king, and I can be your queen.” He kissed her, not passionately, but tenderly. Lovingly.

“I can’t. After all she’s fought for, I can’t take it away from her.” Sansa understood what he meant. He didn’t love her, but he cared for her. The way she thought she felt for him before he left... only when he came back did she really realize that she loved him.

“Then marry me, Jon. I’ll be queen, we’ll help her take her kingdoms, and we’ll come back. We’ll be together, you and I, and rule the North, as it was meant to be, only this time you’ll be my consort.” Jon smiled and pushed her hair back behind one ear.

“It’s a nice thought. But how do I tell her? She thinks I love her.”

“That doesn’t matter right now.” A wave of heat took over Sansa’s icy body and she pressed her lips to his. The same heat must’ve taken over Jon as well, because he pushed her cloak aside, right between two roots of the heart tree and laid Sansa down there. He kissed her back, more violently than the last time, as she unlaced his trousers. He pushed her frock aside and began to kiss down her neck, light touches of his lips on her bare skin as he went down. He had thrown her frock over her head, it was somewhere, but she didn’t care where. The cold air his her body, but his warmth kept her from freezing. He slowly kissed around her nipple, and trailed down even farther to her stomach. He looked up at her, into her eyes, before he kissed even further down. His tongue began to explore her, and soft moans came from her mouth. Her hands were tangled in his hair as his tongue entered and exited her, making her moan louder. After he came up, he was hard against her thigh. Sansa held her breath as he entered her, pumping slowly as she let out small sighs. His mouth was back on her neck, and he occasionally whispered her name. His hands explored her body, grabbing at her, and her hands remained tangled in his long hair.

He finished inside her, and found her frock. She hadn’t realized it as it was happening, but both of them were crying. Tears were streaming down each of their faces one by one. She swiftly got herself together, and they walked side by side through the courtyard, and into her chambers. She threw everything off again, as did he, and they both laid in bed together, bodies pressed against each other, for warmth or for comfort neither could say. They spent hours just gazing into each other’s eyes, and Sansa was the first to fall asleep.

When Sansa woke the next morning, Jon was not in her arms. He wasn’t in her chambers. She called in maids to help her dress and went down to the great hall, where Jon was sitting with his dragon queen.

_The king of my heart has a new queen, long may they reign._

**Author's Note:**

> THIS WAS SO SAD TO WRITE but I had to include some smut hehehe


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